


Jacked

by Al_D_Baran



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Not Beta Read, Sex on a Car, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_D_Baran/pseuds/Al_D_Baran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But there is Arthur, his one true love, reincarnated as a prim, pretty young woman, standing in front of him with a hand on her purse, looking at him with a frown behind her frame-wired glasses."</p><p>Written for Yanna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jacked

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my rp partner, Yanna. So anything you might not understand is from the rp. It's always tricky to post stuff like this so...
> 
> If i get the plot to its barest, boniest bones: Arthur once angered a celtic god in his first life, which prompted him to curse both him and Francis and makes either him or Francis dies each time (but Francis more often because that's the best way to punish him.) He bound their souls to make sure they'd find then lose each others. 
> 
> And Emilio (and his bro Antonio) are both in love with them, and Emilio tries to find Arthur as much as he can because dragons are dumb and prefer humans over other dragons because... they're often mean and self-interested.
> 
> Anyway, you don't really need to know all this to read, but I hope you can enjoy the filth anyway!

The high-pitched sound of the bell pulled him out from under the car’s hood. Picking the nearest towel to clean his oil-dirtied hands, Emilio wiped his forehead with his forearm, dragging his body from the refreshing breeze of the electric fan behind him.

The client rung the bell again, making him groan in annoyance. From where he stood – through a damaged and blurry window –, he could see that this was a young woman. With how prim and proper she was, she looked terribly displaced in such a dirty, dusty garage.

“Comin, comin,” he said, trying to get rid of the oil that had seeped under his fingernails, looking at himself in the nearest mirror to make sure there was none on his cheeks. A Don Juan couldn’t let himself have too much slack, he thought, running a hand through his short, curly brown hair.

He only looked up to her after throwing the towel on the other side of the counter, wanting to look at the blondie with a sleek grin of his, yet, his heart was the one to skip a beat.

This wasn’t what he had expected.

And he would have _never_ expected to meet someone like this before.

But there is _Arthur_ , his one true love, reincarnated as a prim, pretty young woman, standing in front of him with a hand on her purse, looking at him with a frown behind her frame-wired glasses. Her hair is held in a tight bun, body hug closely by a pencil skirt and a white shirt, tied up to her neck, of course.

Mouth open in his surprise, Emilio had to catch himself quickly, grinning as he leaned over the counter, seeing her take a step away at the sight of his bulging muscle.

But she looked at him curiously and he could _smell_ how curious she was. Maybe, somewhere, she remembered him?

Because she had known him. Lives ago – as the immortal dragon that he had been and still was. Once he had been revered as a god and now… there he was, fixing cars and living upstairs in a shitty flat when his gold had run out.

There really was no ways to even think of this without sounding ridiculous, even for himself.

It took her a second to speak, red lips opening to speak with a slight hesitation, eyes trailing all over him as if she gauged him, “Yes, um… hello, I… my car is here. I’ve left it to your co-worker—“

“Oh Ludwig? Explains why I didn’t get such a pretty lady’s number.”

Her cheeks became redder than her lips. Emilio had to grin. Arthur was still exactly the same, as always, a shy, stuck-up prude on the outside but once you got to his core… he was wilder than he ever expected him to be.

“You, you have my number,” she corrected, looking away with a deep frown on her pretty face. “It’s… I had to give it so you could call back once it was ready.”

Emilio grins again, picking the notebook where Ludwig dutifully notes every client that comes in and their phone numbers. It’s surprising, really – the number of rich idiots who sometimes don’t bother to call them when they give their number or simply tells them to keep the car.

“Well, sweet cheeks, I’m gonna need your name to find out who you are. Surely, you ain’t named John Hanson?”

She just frowns again, in the same annoying way Arthur always did when he made a joke. He never really expects her to laugh at all, because Arthur’s never been the kind to laugh at any jokes, or anything at all. Always so serious, always focused… it’s what makes Arthur and he loves him for what he is.

And he never changes – so he’s sure she is him.

“My name is Rose Berenice Kirkland. Now please, can I know if it is done?”

He can’t help but smirk at that. Rose? He’s hears that somewhere, he thinks, feeling like the name fits too much for there to be any other on such a pretty face.

“Sure, miss, sure.”

He looked down to the list, seeing no names. Not a Rose, not a Kirkland. Emilio tries looking on the other page, with no more luck. He looks back to her, feeling a little febrile now.

“Well, your name isn’t on there. Maybe you’d like to come to the back to see if your car’s there? It should be written there. Lud’s usually pretty good at doing this.”

Emilio looks back to her green eyes, seeing the hesitation flash through her eyes. It stings him – he knows women must be careful and he’s trice her size and can’t say anything for Arthur… _Rose_ to trust him so easily, but it reminds him too much of how scared he used to be.

He smiles, trying to reassure her, “It’ll just take a minute. The garage’s door’s wide open too. It gets pretty hot in there.”

He tries mapping her an escape, as if this would help her trust him at all. But she needs her car, of course, and she reluctantly makes a step forward, as if to indicate him to get on with it. Leaving the front room, Emilio guides her through the dozen of cars inside the large garage.

She looks around, confused, heels clicking on the dirty floor as she tries to avoid puddles of oil or dust, looking relieved as she rushes to a German import, running a hand on the lifted hood.

Now he remembers.

“Oh yeah, the transmission right?”

She blinks, but nods. “Yes… it stopped working in the middle of the road close to your shop.”

Is his luck turning? Emilio can’t help but think it’s finally his turn. Leaning against the car as she seems to relax, even when the sizzling heat of the building makes her take off a button of her proper little blouse, the mere gesture making the dragon bite his lips in want.

It’s been so long.

So long since he saw him, since he’s spoke to him…

Last time was the forties and it didn’t end well for any of them.

            She huffs, looking at the car, then him, frowns deepening again.

“Have we met?” Rose asks, scanning him entirely, as if she just can’t put her finger on where she saw his face.

“Not in this life, no,” he says, winking.

She rolls her eyes.

If only she knew, he thinks, smirk growing on his lips as he gets just a centimetre closer, trying to find something else to say before she’ll obviously leave, trying the usual, “So, I still don’t have your number, pretty lady. I mean, I’d need it so I can see you again for the car when it’s done or… something else.”

He can’t help but think Rose would look particularly wonderful on the hood of his Oldsmobile right next to them, _right now_.

“Do you try this on every girl that walks in there?” Rose asks him with a sigh, taking paper and pen out of her purse to write her number and name.

“It works on the boys too,” he tries, winking as he hands it to him. He pushes it in his pocket. He’ll keep that preciously.

She lets out what he recognizes from years of expertise as a little laugh, she keeps herself from smiling even. He’s scared she’ll go, but she seems to not want to leave either, eyes going from anywhere in the shop to the bulging muscles under his stained tee-shirt.

Maybe getting her to climb on the Oldsmobile won’t be too difficult, Emilio thinks, his grin seemingly never leaving him on this hot afternoon. Rose shifts from one foot to another, knees locked together and perhaps not only because of her tight pencil skirt. From where he stands, he can smell the arousal between her thighs and everything he wants is to plunge his fingers inside of her.

She walks to the red, flashy Oldsmobile, dragging her pretty fingers across its fender. Emilio couldn’t be more pleased, standing behind her so they just brush, his nose picking up the way her body heats up now that they’re so close.

“She’s beautiful, uh?” he brags, looking behind to the rocket-shaped part of the trunk. Truly, it’s his best acquisition and he’d love to take her for a ride.

“It does… it does look nice.” Her voice is a little hoarse. “Is it yours?”

“She is,” Emilio purrs, not even hesitating for a second before he traps her between the hood and his body, feeling her tense in the best way possible. “But not prettier than you.”

Rose swallows audibly, leaning against the car, legs opening for better purchase, leaving him all the room to place a knee between her opened thighs. He leans in slowly, wanting to taste her lips as he traces her cheeks with his dirty fingers when she fists one hand in his hair, pulling his down for a sloppy kiss, messing her perfect lipstick. He drags it to her cheeks, quickly losing his breath into hers.

His cock only takes seconds to grow hard against her knees and she _pushes_ it against his erection. Who knew such a prim lady could have hidden a minx? he thinks, without an ounce of surprise. Arthur has always been good to hide who he really is underneath it all.

He growls, gripping her hair too, strands slipping out of her bun as she pulls away to breathe.

Emilio can smell how wet she is already, as if she expected this. He pulls her skirt up just enough to push a hand under it, pleased to find no panties on her and smirks.

“Commando? Dirty girl…”

“Shu… shut u— _oooaaah!_ ”

Emilio doesn’t want to waste time talking dirty, fingering her hard, aiming right for the spots his dexterous, experienced hands know will make Rose mewl in seconds. She grips the car, one hand finding the wing to hold on it tightly. She’s so wet she makes squelching sounds as he fucks into her, mouth drinking her moans against her lips.

He feels the pinpricks of her nipples under her blouse, trailing oil all over them, an handprint even on one. A trophy, he thinks, a sign that even now, she’s his, even when she doesn’t even remember. Buttons fly to leave him an easy access to her tiny breasts, yanking the bra down to look at them both.

B-cups were always just right what he needed.

“So cute,” he groans, leaning in to suck on one, loving the perfect, rosy pink they are, hardening inside his mouth as he bites them.

Rose just moans, clawing at his scalp as he explores her, rubbing her clit with his thumb, feeling her push back with _oh gods_ and _mores_ against his palm, rocking herself against his dirty fingers. Someone outside could just hear them but he just doesn’t care.

Emilio pulls his fingers out, shivering at the sight of how _clean_ his index and middle fingers are compared to the rest. He bunches her skirt on her pelvis, placing her hand on his hard cock as he finally pulls out of his pants, sighing at the feeling of not being constrained by them.

She’s messy when she looks at him, make up smudged with sweat, lipstick all over her chin and cheek, eyes wide as she stares at his prick.

“Oh.”

Rose smells wetter just as she looks at him and he just wants to slam in.

He guides her hand on it, running it up and down. Her fingers can’t even wrap around it and Emilio feels drip.

“That’s… that’s not going to fit,” she says, legs closing a little before he spreads them again and she obediently stays this way, looking at him, a little too much like the worried little doe he once was when he had this name.

“Not all of it, no. It’s okay, sweet cheeks… I know how to handle it.

Emilio rubs the tip against her entrance, knowing they’ll need all the lubrication possible, even if it’s only pre-cum. Rose moans again, looking at him with precious, wet eyes.

“Shhh, it’s okay, babydoll. I’ll take care of you.”

Her legs part again, leaving him all the room to settle between her legs, guiding his cock against her cunt. He leans over her, mouth opening to latch on her little tits again, free hand squeezing and massaging the other as she lets out a little moan, rocking against his stiff prick.

“Why aren’t you… putting it it?”

Emilio grins, looking down to look at the glistening, flushed folds opening and brushing against his glans, having to resist the urge to just press forward when she’s rubbing herself like a whore against his fucking cock.

But patience. He’ll get just what he wants soon, he knows – oh, he _does_.

“It’s your move, doll. Y’want it?”

She nods with a little sigh, heels pushing against the Oldsmobile, a shoe slipping off from the sweat as she pulls herself down onto his cock, letting out a shuddering sigh of pain and relief mixed together, sweat dripping onto her forehead. Emilio leans in close, letting her pussy slowly swallow him as he leans over her, taking her mouth against his to devour it.

He can hear her muffled moans, keeping her hips down as he’s enticed by how impossibly tight she feels around him. He wants to just ram in, to rock her and hear the suspension creak under them but he just grips her tight, gazing into her eyes with his burning golden ones.

“Y’want it baby?” he asks again, as if her answer will change as she nods, pushing back against him, as he’s swallowed inches by inches into her tight, welcoming heat. He can’t even more yet – she’s so tight she’s suffocating him, he plays with her breasts to make sure she’ll stay as sopping wet as she needs to be for this, massaging them slowly.

“Tell me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” he croons, recovering his smirk as she wraps one leg around his calf, thankfully the one without a sharp heel – he still has a scar from last time a woman did this to him and he wears it proudly. “It won’t all fit in that tight little puss, sweet cheeks,” Emilio adds, when she tries to push a little more, effort making her cheeks pinker than ever.

She’s not deep enough for that. Taking a human appearance consumes more energy than any dragon can foresee so he always takes this effortless, Hispanic one, with dark skin and curly, dark hair. Muscles won’t leave him, as he’s a rather large in his original form and he can’t shrink himself too much… but it’s not terrible when he doesn’t need to worry about not having enough blood in his brain when he has an erection.

Being an ancient lizard _does_ come with a few perks.

When Emilio can finally move a little, Rose is mewling under him, writhing on the hood as he pulls away from her lips and neck, gripping her hips with one hand to keep her in place as he fucks into her with slow, measured thrusts, just to her used to his girth. The added pre-cum loosen the muscles a little more, it relaxes her – she moans a little more, his cock slipping deeper now, as he slowly gets acquainted with it.

“Mo, more, please…” she moans, breathing hard, more of her ashen blonde hair having slipped out of her proper bun. She’s right out of a cheesy porno and he loves it, how debauched she looks…

“Sure, baby, sure.” His voice is hoarse with pleasure, he thrusts a little harder. Her hand’s on her clit, rolling and pinching it and Emilio can _swear_ he’s seen this somewhere, shivering as he recognizes Arthur in all of her, from the way she squeezes it hard to the way she rolls against his own thrusts.

It’s _him_ , he knows, and he’s elated at the very idea.

He’d love to have the words to tell her about how wonderful she looks, shirt clinging to her with sweat, hair mated on her forehead… Emilio closes his eyes, pressing his oily thumb inside her mouth and she _sucks_ on it, letting out a hiccup at – he thinks – the taste, chin growing darker with it, moaning around it, mouth opening in a crescendo.

He slams harder, a few times, hearing the suspension creaks as he does.

It takes only that to make Rose cum, pussy quivering around him as she snaps, her release washing over her as she sobs. Emilio thrusts inside slowly, rolling her clit under his free hand to hold her through it, her cunt milking his own orgasm, spilling inside of her in copious ribbons, pulling out to finish in a cloth.

Emilio tucks himself back into his pants, hovering on her to kiss her lips, uncaring for the oil there. She still taste sweet, like a mint bubble gum, legs spread around him, kissing back lazily, coming to her senses with disbelief, but she stares at him, frowning again.

“You… didn’t… I thought you had a scar on your eye, earlier…” She pants, tracing his left eye.

He used to, a long time ago. A man had sliced his eye and eyelid, rendering him mostly blind in this eye.

But that was almost a thousand years ago now and Emilio just smiles.

“Me? Maybe in another life, Rosie.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she stammers, as if she suddenly realizes what she’s done, eyes widening, cheeks going crimson.

He can only laugh at that.

“It’s a little late to be shy now, babe. I’m Emilio Carriedo.”

Is this still the name Antonio uses? He doesn’t really care. Dragons don’t really have any last names – or exist anymore, at all. It really doesn’t matter more than the ink he uses to write it on paychecks.

Rose is still red, wiping her forehead again as she looks to her car, pushing him off her to pull her skirt down carefully, pulling her bra up to get a semblance of dignity back to her, pulling her hair in a looser bun. She sits there for a moment, looking confused.

He bends down to place her lost shoe on her foot, settling between her legs again with a Kleenex to clean her face a little, using a little bit of orange-scented pumice to rid her of the oil. As for her shirt, he’s sure she’ll get a good dry-cleaner somewhere in town.

It’s a little awkward, like it always his with sex between strangers, even if he feels like he could and _should_ hug her, kiss her a little more… She stares at his clean fingers, as if the prim and proper lady in her can’t believe she’s done this, that she’s rubbed herself and came against a complete stranger in minutes.

“So…” She looks up to him. He pulls out a card from his pocket, with the garage’s address and the number – which is his, as he lives upstairs. “Here. So… you can call and see if your car is done.”

“It’s… it’s not?”

She still takes it, folding it in two before putting it in her bra. Skirts really don’t often have pockets, he’s noticed.

“I’ll work on it very hard, baby, promise ya.”

She’s so pink he just can’t resist kissing her cheek and she pulls him off with a sigh.

“Well,” she huffs, trying to look bigger than she is, like a robin trying to attack a cat through a window. “I won’t walk home like this. I look… I look like a whore!”

Emilio laughs at that, pulling her down to press her basin to his, making her squeak.

“One who doesn’t have panties on in the first place, uh?”

Rose glares.

“Now _that_ ’s impolite.”

She pushes him away again.

He chuckles.

“I’ll drive ya home,” he says, walking to the driver side, sitting down and lighting a cigarette.

Rose seems to hesitate for a minute, then climbs inside, looking at him as he starts it.

“Well, since we’re doing this all in reverse,” he checks the mirrors, backing up to take the dirt road in front of his shop, “May I call this pretty lady to go on a date later?” he asks, turning to her as he waits to see if she’ll agree.

Rose hesitates visibly, holding her purse nervously before she makes a shy smile.

“Um… after all this, I guess… I guess it would be a good thing. You… you seem like a nice man, Mr Carriedo.”

“Cut that crap, darling.” He pulls her in for a kiss, smiling wide when she parts his lips with her tongue.

“It’s Emilio for ya. So, where do I take you, missy? Because surely, we won’t be going to the cinema without you and me taking a shower first.”

Rose smiles, the light in her delightful green eyes changing just slightly.

“Well, there’s one in my flat.”

She’s almost purring, her hand laying on his lap as she gets closer to him, the large banquettes of the Oldsmobile letting her make sure there’s not a centimetre between them.

She just kisses him again.

And Emilio thinks he’ll have to make sure they get a backseat in that cinema…

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are better than kudos.


End file.
